


First Love

by foggys_cupcake_girl



Category: Justice League (2017), The Batman (Movie 2021)
Genre: Cinnamon Roll Barry Allen, Cuddling & Snuggling, Edward and Oswald set out to seduce a cute boy, Emotional Sex, First Time, Flash (DCU) Played by Ezra Miller, Getting Together, M/M, Penguin (DCU) Played by Colin Farrell, Polyamory, Protective Edward Nygma, Protective Oswald Cobblepot, Riddler (DCU) Played by Paul Dano, Romantic Fluff, Soft and Fluffy, Tender Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Touch-Starved, and instead they end up Catching The Feels oops, seriously this is so soft, this is very Emotional (TM), villain-hero relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28708791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl
Summary: Barry Allen doesn't know how he fell into bed with two supervillains.To be fair, he didn't know at the time they *are* supervillains, and honestly, by the end of the night he wouldn't care if he did know.(Barry, Edward, and Oswald's first night together. Companion to "Sparkplug.")
Relationships: Barry Allen/Edward Nygma, Barry Allen/Oswald Cobblepot, Barry Allen/Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 12
Kudos: 29





	First Love

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaand I'm back in the DC Fandom, just can't stay away ^_^
> 
> TW for mentions of past abuse (Barry discloses his past to the Rogues and they both tell him they've had tough times as well). Mostly fluff though ;)

Barry doesn’t really know how this happened.

Okay, he has some idea how it happened, but it still feels…very surreal to him.

Honestly, he’s having trouble remembering the details right now anyway, as always happens when he’s Having The Anxiety, and if he’s _brutally_ honest he’s had nothing _but_ anxiety since that goddamn lightning hit his chemicals and turned him into…well. Whatever the hell kind of speed demon-thing he is now.

He remembers the convenience store. He remembers diving in front of the gun, yanking the beautiful shaggy-haired man out of the way. He remembers thinking, in the split second before he ran away, _God, he’s handsome._ He remembers why he came to New York (school trip, only here on scholarship, thought it would be helpful to see big NYPD crime labs) and he definitely remembers going out for ice cream alone, looking up when he left the store bereft because things cost a _lot_ in New York, and seeing that same lovely face, those light hazel-brown eyes looking at him with a devious sparkle as the man’s hand curled gently under his jaw, thumb delicately stroking his cheek.

“You never gave me the chance to thank you properly,” he said with a smile, and Barry’s knees went weak.

He should have said no when the man invited him back to his house. Should have gone back to the hotel where his classmates were staying. But he felt a pull towards this pretty man with the light eyes and dark smile, and something about the novelty of being touched made his heart trip a little.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

~

“You’re really a present,” Edward, the pretty man, says as they get out of the bright-green limo and head up to the gates of the most extravagant mansion Barry has ever seen. “My boyfriend’s always wanted a threesome and you’re his free pass. Don’t count on seeing us again after this is over. Unless we decide to keep you. You really don’t get any say in that, fair warning.” He stops there, as if to give Barry the chance to say a safeword that hasn’t yet been established. Barry just nods, wondering if he’s been drugged or if he’s finally losing it.

He’s led through a mansion straight out of a horror movie (seriously, the fact that at no point does he encounter Dracula is just shocking) and up to the most exquisite bedroom he has ever seen. He’s almost afraid to even stand inside the doorway, for fear of dirtying it somehow.

Sitting on the edge of a luxurious bed is a soft, pudgy man with kind eyes and a pointed nose, and if messy-haired, sparkle-eyed Edward has an air of mischief, this man connotes confidence and elegance. He stands when Barry enters the room, and Barry nearly swoons when he sees that the man is wearing a beautiful suit built around a black-and-gray kilt.

Barry doesn’t know how he can be attracted to two men who are definitely at least fifteen years older than him and clearly shady as fuck, but God, he’s already half in love. And that, of course is when his heart jumps to about 300 BPM and he involuntarily twitches himself halfway across the room and back with the blink of an eye. 

“Oh,” he says, blushing, when Edward and his partner look alarmed. “That, uh. That happens sometimes.”

~

It takes a while to explain. The lab. The lightning. How Barry was able to save Edward at the convenience store.

“We should probably call this off,” he finishes nervously, as Oswald (that’s the soft squishy-looking man’s name) and Edward circle him, their hands reaching out calm him with light, barely-there caresses that make him even more jumpy. “I’m—I’m not right. Kind of dangerous. I don’t know how to—how to _control_ this shit, I’m still learning, I don’t know if I can—I might _hurt_ you,” he spits out.

A pair of warm, strong arms circles him from behind, giving him the kind of grounding touch he needs to steady himself. “I think you’ll find we’re not quite as breakable as you think we are,” Oswald tells him.

“I don’t know. I might—I can run into you, sure, but what if I run _through_ you?” Barry shivers, and a little trail of lightning sparks on his hand. He whimpers and pulls away. “See, you shouldn’t touch me, I’m dangerous.”

But they’ve each got a hand now and are leading him to the bed, and he feels shaky and soft and he wants it, oh God, these two weirdly beautiful men want _him,_ and they’re both looking at him like an entree they can’t wait to devour, and he thinks he might faint or spaz out and run, he’s not sure—

“Sweet thing,” Oswald says gently as he guides Barry onto the bed and lays him back, “you’ll be safe with us. Don’t you worry.”

“I’m more worried that I’ll hurt you,” Barry admits, and then honest to God _whimpers_ when the front of his shirt is pushed up and Edward’s hand strokes his exposed, flat belly with a delicate touch.

“We aren’t afraid,” Edward tells him, all but licking his lips in anticipation as he slowly unzips Barry’s hoodie. “You don’t want to hurt us, do you, sweetheart?”

Barry shakes his head. “No, but—” A hand slides up his thigh and even through the thick weave of his jeans, the touch is startling and makes him _feel things._ A sharp gasp and he’s on the other side of the room, trembling all over, desperately _achingly_ hard and painfully embarrassed once he realizes what happened.

He sinks to the floor, his burning face pressed into his hands. “Please kill me,” he begs. “Just do it. Put me out of my misery.”

There’s a pause, the sound of footsteps, and Barry waits to be shown to the door. Instead a low chuckle sounds in his ear, two pairs of arms manhandling him up off the floor. “We’re just getting started,” Edward promises, his voice dancing with barely-repressed laughter, and oh _help me please,_ Barry is not sure he’s going to survive this.

~

It takes a little while for him to relax enough to let Edward and Oswald undress him. Barry apologizes about a dozen times and can’t understand why Edward, even as he’s giggling, insists there’s nothing to apologize for. “I’m too—I’m just—I’m not used to this kind of stuff,” he stammers.

Oswald chooses that moment to lift his hair and kiss the back of his neck. Barry trembles so hard his entire body vibrates. The sensation of a soft kiss in such a sensitive place overwhelms him, and before he can even try to adjust to the feeling he’s coming, hard, waves of pleasure threatening to knock him over.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes, for the thirteenth time. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Sh-h-h, don’t be sorry. We love that you’re so sensitive,” Oswald assures him as he strips off Barry’s soaked jeans. “We like you, sweetheart. We _want_ to make you feel good.” He leans down and licks the love-bite he just left, moaning softly against the bruised skin. “Mmm. You taste so good.”

The problem, Barry realizes as he undresses Edward with shaking fingers, a task made much more difficult by the fact that Oswald is sucking endless hickies into his neck, is that he’s not used to _touch._ Even before the lightning no one really touched him. So, yeah. He’s a little jumpy.

But his body is as starved for friendly contact as it is afraid of it, and he feels so unbelievably overwhelmed by the sensation of foreign hands on his bare skin. It feels incredible when Edward pins him down on his back and slides his hands all over Barry’s chest, stopping to tease his already-pebbling nipples. “Oh, sensitive,” he grins when just this is enough to make Barry arch up and cry out beneath him. “This is going to be fun.”

Fun for them, maybe, but Barry is really, truly certain now that he is not going to survive the night.

~

It takes a little while, and plenty of tender pats and soothing cuddles, before Barry stops speeding away when given an unexpectedly pleasurable touch.

By that time, all three of them are totally, wonderfully naked, and Barry’s mind is so far in the gutter he’s practically having tea parties with Pennywise. It’s like being on a highwire: all he can think is _don’t look down._ He’s not sure whether he wants to be stuffed full or fuck them one after the other, and the uncertainty does nothing to calm his racing heart. 

“Look at him, Edward,” Oswald says, as if Barry can’t hear them. “You know, you chose very well, baby…he literally lights up when you touch him, isn’t that something?”

“It is,” Edward agrees, still teasingly running his hands over Barry’s completely nude body. A little trill of lightning sparks across Barry’s caving belly, and Edward coos in delight. “You’re just a sweet little sparkplug, aren’t you? Tell me, pretty”—this as he’s teasing Barry’s legs apart, fingertips lightly nudging the insides of his sensitive thighs—“has anyone ever sucked this delicious-looking cock of yours?”

Barry whines low in his throat, his brain almost entirely shorting out at the thought. “No, uh—no. Definitely not.” Shame wells up inside him. He didn’t _mean_ to be a virgin at 23, but…well, usually he’s just trying to survive. Even before the accident, he avoided people; he doesn’t generally trust them very much, and he’s certainly never gotten naked with one total stranger, much less two, before tonight.

“So we’ll be the first ones to taste you? What an honor,” Oswald says warmly, and a bit of that shame melts away as it sinks in that he’s _pleased_ by Barry’s innocence, not turned off by it in the least. “Edward, love…you brought him home, would you like to go first?”

Edward responds by diving in headfirst, and Barry thinks he might actually cry at the first feeling of a rich, wet heat he never could’ve imagined enveloping his twitching cock.

Oswald holds both his hands as he trembles at the sensation, already on the brink of climax even though he’s already come once tonight. He’s never felt like this before: completely strung out, absolutely drowning in pleasure, with absolutely nothing to worry or think about besides what he’s feeling right in the moment. 

“It’s okay,” Oswald soothes him as Barry whimpers, tears spilling from his eyes. “It’s okay, darling. You’re allowed to have this. You’re allowed to feel good.”

He speaks with the gentle authority of someone who has needed to hear those words before, and Barry shakes, his throat closes, and he whimpers a plea for Edward to stop. He rolls over and presses his face into Oswald’s ample chest, hands balled into fists, little wounded cries breaking out of his choked-up throat.

A hand strokes his spine, soothing and grounding him once more. “Something bad happened to you, didn’t it,” Edward says softly. “You know what my parents used to do to me, little sparkplug? They’d lock me in the basement before they left home so I couldn’t get out and cause trouble. I could scream and cry as much as I wanted—never did a bit of good.”

“Mine threw me away, literally” Oswald says solemnly. “They wanted a daughter and got a son. They put me out on the curb with the garbage twice and then threw me into the sewers when they couldn’t get rid of me any other way.”

Barry’s heart shatters at the thought, but something in his soul feels satisfied as the last vestiges of his uncertainty begin to melt away. Neglect, pain, anger, shame—these are things he understands. “Someone murdered my mom and framed my dad,” he tells them. “I grew up in the foster system and…well. The less said about that the better.”

There’s brief, painful silence, as the reality of what they’ve all just divulged to each other hangs in the air. And then Oswald kisses Barry’s forehead, almost as if offering benediction, and Edward gently strokes his bony hip. “We won’t hurt you, sweet thing,” Oswald promises him softly. “We know how it feels to be hurt and we won’t do it to you. All right?”

He feels safe now in a way he didn’t before, and Barry knows now that he can completely drop his guard. The adrenaline recedes, his fists unclench, and Edward takes that as his cue to cuddle up to his back. He’s sandwiched firmly between the two men now, and his body almost can’t help but relax, soothed by the physical contact as well as the sudden emotional closeness.

His mind flashes to what Edward said outside. _Don’t count on seeing us again…unless we decide to keep you._

Suddenly he very, _very_ badly wants to be kept.

~

He gets a little bolder after that. Pushes Oswald onto his back and spends a few minutes exploring the older man’s deliciously soft body. He takes his time, at Edward’s encouragement, kissing and nibbling at the ample belly, lost in the expanse of warm skin until a mischievous giggle breaks him out of his trance. He looks up and finds Edward watching him. His face heats up. “I—I’m sorry,” he offers, backing away a little. Is this wrong? Has he been too focused on one partner? He’s not sure what the etiquette is for a threesome.

“Oh, don’t be,” Edward grins. “Maybe now he’ll listen to me when I say I’m not the only one to appreciate that big sexy tummy.”

Oswald reaches up and pulls Barry down to his side with one arm, and tugs Edward in with the other so they’re all three cuddled up together. “You like me, huh?” he asks Barry, who shyly nods into his side. “You can touch all you like,” he says encouragingly. “And him, too. We don’t mind, lovely. It’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?”

So Barry carefully pushes himself up and kisses Oswald, who patiently lies under him and lets him do it, and then leans over to kiss Edward, who kisses back with enthusiasm and an open mouth. He reaches up with the hand he’s not using to balance himself and, because he’s been thinking about it all night, pushes a hand through Edward’s shaggy blond hair. It’s as soft as it looks and Barry can’t stop himself from moaning softly into the Edward’s mouth as the kiss deepens.

The man lying beneath them lets out a sigh of longing. “I just want you two to know if I die from this,” Oswald’s voice floats up to them, “I want _killed by exposure to beautiful sexy boys_ on my tombstone.”

Edward pulls away from Barry and scowls down at his boyfriend. “No. You aren’t allowed to die.”

“Not until we’re done with you anyway,” Barry adds on impulse, and to his surprise and delight both of the men laugh instead of being offended.

“Can we keep him Ozzie?” Edward giggles, and Barry gasps in surprise as Edward hauls him over Oswald and lays him out flat, surprisingly strong for a man so thin.

Barry’s heart flutters and picks up in pace. Butterflies erupt in his stomach as each of his new lovers rests a hand on his belly, the pressure keeping him grounded, the touch firm enough to ease the impulse to speed away. Within seconds he is smothered by another messy, exuberant kiss from Edward, while Oswald kisses the curve of his neck again. He moans helplessly into Edward’s mouth and tries to sit up, to reciprocate, he can’t just let them spoil him all night—

“Relax, lovely,” Oswald admonishes him gently, before he kisses a line down Barry’s quivering body. “It’s your first time, sweet thing. Let us make it good for you.”

Barry’s hand trembles as he reaches up to pet the older man’s dark, silky-soft hair, another throaty moan escaping as Oswald’s lips carefully map the contours of his thin chest, his nearly-concave belly. The brief sadness of earlier has evaporated and he’s hot and hard again, every part of him aching to be touched, and this time when a warm, wet mouth envelops his throbbing member he doesn’t feel a need to pull away.

“So pretty,” Edward coos, stroking Barry’s sweaty hair from his face as his eyes roll back. He’s already half-lost to the pleasure, and when Edward tweaks his nipples with long, clever fingers he nearly dies of it. “That’s it, little sparkplug. Let go. Feels so good, doesn’t it? And you look so sweet…” He nips Barry’s earlobe and says, low and confidential, “You know, if my birdie sucked any other man’s cock, I’d kick his ass and kill the guy on the spot…but look at that. He likes it. He likes _you._ And you know what?”

“Mmm?” Barry whimpers, his hips twitching, lips parting in a needy gasp as the burning pleasure inside him grows hotter.

“I like you too. And I think we _will_ keep you.” Edward nips his earlobe again, tweaks his nipple, Oswald swallows around his cock and that’s it—Barry comes so hard he shrieks, his back arching as he grips the sheets so hard they nearly rip.

“Oh, look at this,” he hears Oswald breathe a moment later, one pudgy hand gently stroking Barry’s hip as if to soothe him. “He’s still hard, baby. What do you think we should do about that?”

Barry can barely stop shaking, his heart is racing, and he feels so good he thinks he might cry. “I, um—” He coughs once and manages to gather himself a little. “I have—a really short, um. Recovery period. You can—oh!” Edward’s hand has snaked down his body to do a little reconnaissance, and he makes a pleased noise when he discovers Barry is indeed still aroused. “You can do what you want to me,” Barry finishes breathlessly. “I’ll let you. I—I _want_ you to.”

“Mmm. We were hoping to hear just that, little sparkplug,” Edward purrs, and Barry lets his eyes fall closed, anticipation sparking through his veins.

~

It goes on for some time.

They both have their way with him: first Edward, giggling and teasing and running his hands all over Barry as he rides him, shrieking in delight when it comes about that Barry vibrates when he gets close (“oh my _God,_ you’re a human vibrator—and I thought you couldn’t get any more perfect!”), and then Oswald, gently opening Barry up to have him, soothing him with soft words and softer kisses (“that’s it lad, just relax, it’ll feel so good if you just let me—oh, there you are love, there’s a good boy, I’ve got you now”) as he finally pushes inside.

Barry has never felt so thoroughly _needed_ before now. He’s never had the time to spare to look for love before now, but he thinks this might be how it feels. He isn’t thinking of where his next meal will come from, how he’s going to pay his tuition, what he wants to say to his dad in the limited time they’ll have at his next visit. He’s not thinking of survival right now. For the first time, he feels…

_Happy._

Barry’s used to famine and all at once he’s been given a feast, and it’s intensely overwhelming, makes him feel almost unbearably vulnerable.

He loves to be held and touched by them both, but something about Oswalds’ bulk is soothing and after they make love, he curls up against the man’s side and melts as a heavy arm winds its way around him. He suddenly feels sleepy and warm, and the sound of the man’s steady, normal heartbeat quiets what few thoughts are still racing through his mind.

“Sleep, little sparkplug,” he hears Edward urge him softly. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

~

They are there when he wakes up the next morning.

They are there when he gets out of class a week later, back in Central City.

They are there when he is kicked out of the dorms when he can’t pay his room and board anymore.

They are there when he learns that using his powers too much without refueling leads to weakness and fainting spells and other nasty side effects of low blood sugar—and they are there when he wakes in bed, each holding one of his hands and making him promise if he’s going to _run around being an insufferable do-gooder_ that he at least take care of himself.

They are there when Batman recruits him to stop an ancient monster, when he is more afraid than he has ever been in his life. When he has to help bring Superman back to life and he nearly dies in the ensuing fight. When he comes back home battered and in tears, thinking it’s somehow his fault.

They are there when he decides to go back out and fight. And they are there when he comes back in triumph, they are there, _right there_ with him, and now he knows who they are so it means even more when they are proud of him.

 _Stop all the other bad guys you want, sparkplug,_ they tell him. _Just come back to us whole and healthy and we don’t care what happens while you’re out there._

He knows that it’s not exactly morally upright to go stop petty crime on the streets, only to go home to two of the biggest criminals in the city. Barry’s not stupid or naive. He knows who he lives with.

But he _can_ live with them, he thinks, because at the end of the day, they aren’t just any villains. They’re _his._ And it may end up costing him so much, he knows, but—but he’s gone long enough without love, he thinks. He’s earned this. He’s allowed this much, he thinks, this one little eye of calm in the middle of his life’s constant storm.

He loves them, and they love him, and that’s enough. He can live with that.


End file.
